Newly Rediscovered Grooving
by Kits
Summary: Harry, you're exactly that kind of girl." Sequel to "How Harry Lost His Groove" and "How Harry Got His Groove Back Again".


Title: Newly Rediscovered Grooving

Author: Kits

Rating: K

Summary: "Harry, everyone knows you're exactly that kind of girl."

Notes: Sequel, of sorts, to "How Harry Lost His Groove" and "How Harry Got His Groove Back Again". Enjoy!

"Honey, don't be like that."

Harry did his best to ignore his wheedling brother's tone—he had enough of it about ten minutes ago, thanks much—but it was harder when said brother followed you around the kitchen like a lost puppy.

"I will be like whatever I want, and don't call me honey," Harry shot back crossly. He opened the pantry door and stared intently at the rows of bare shelves, vaguely wondering if there was anything in his basement/laboratory he could use to make dinner. Possibly, but then again, he might not want to eat anything he used in spells.

"See? This is what I mean. We need to communicate!" Thomas said earnestly. He peered behind Harry. "What's for dinner?"

Harry turned incredulous eyes on him. "You want me to fix dinner for you? Are you insane?"

Thomas shrugged and smiled a smile that had a thousand women swooning. He pushed his hair back and looked up through his lashes in a move calculated to have those same women throwing their panties at him. Harry was less than impressed.

"What can I say? I like your cooking."

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Please, like I need flattery to get somewhere," Thomas said, hopping up onto the counter. He picked up a can opener flecked with rust and twirled it absent-mindedly in one hand. The tear in the rubber handle split steadily more and more under the pressure.

"Are you done destroying my things? Can you go now?"

"I could," Thomas said, putting the can opener down none-too-gently on the counter. The handle slid off and lay forlornly beside its previous mate on the counter. "But where would be the fun in that?"

"Oh, I don't know, I could have a blast without you. In fact, let's give it a try, shall we? You leave and I'll call you in the morning to tell you what fun I had without you."

"Baby—"

Harry visibly flinched. "Okay, really, stop it, that's creepy."

With a pout pulled straight from Hollywood, Thomas crossed his arms. "I don't know why I want to get back together you, when you're so chilly all the time. A little public affection never hurt anyone."

"Affection, he says!" Harry directed this to Mouse, who stared hopefully at the can of chili Harry had found hiding behind the breadbox. A thin layer of dust covered the metal surface, but it was in a can, so that meant it never went bad, right? Right. "More like torment."

He fumbled for the can opener when Thomas caught his wrist and pulled him in. "Please, Harry? I'll owe you one."

"You owe me already. Remember Nick?"

Thomas winced. "Okay, that was a mistake on my part. But still, you have to admit, you got a nice meal out of it."

"Thank you," Harry snarled, punctuating his displeasure with the sickening thunking sound as the chili—was it meant to be in a solid brick like that?—slid into a pot. "That makes up for the entire night."

"It's just that the women keep trying to set me up and it's not like you've actually used your newfound singledom or anything…" At the tense line of Harry's back, Thomas hastily continued, "So I just thought you wouldn't mind helping me out on this."

Hopping off gracefully, he sank to one knee and grabbed Harry's hand, holding it despite the hefty resistance. "Please? Get back together with me again?"

Harry wrenched his hand away. "I'm just not that kind of girl. What would the neighbors say, this on-again, off-again thing? You're just using me." He sniffed. "Once another piece of tail comes along, I'll be on the curb again until you get bored."

"Oh, please, Harry," Thomas said, wrinkling his nose at the chili on the stove. "Everyone knows you're exactly that kind of girl."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, knowing full well that he had already lost this argument and, even more galling, Thomas knew it too, when Thomas looked up at him with one finger pointing at his supper. "Is it supposed to be green like that?"


End file.
